Nothing Else Like You
by LauraSweetums
Summary: Jasper had a wife before Alice; before being a vampire. And her name was Isabella. I promise it's worth reading. I'm just not good at summarizing.
1. Chapter 1

I've known Isabella, or Bella which she preferred, since before I could remember. She was my best friend, and my secret love. And I still remember the day I realized I was shamelessly in love, bright as the sun, like it was just yesterday.

And here's how the story goes:

"Jasper! Jasper!" she shrieked with excitement, waving her hand in the air. I stood from the bench that was set in her manor's garden, to open my arms to her for a hug as I smiled widely. She grabbed her skirts in one fist full, the other one extended in the air with a leather bound book grasped in it as she ran as fast as she could.

She had grown a significant amount over the three months of the summer. Her Aunt Murley who owned estates in various counties in Europe graciously offered to ship her over for extensive tutoring before her studies could start back up again in the fall. Of course I was worried for her; who knows what can happen on a ship with a three day voyage ahead of it. There is decease, and murderers. But as I offered my thoughts to her the day before she left, she swatted me playfully and said, "Jasper, darling. It is one of the better ships; please keep in mind my dear Aunt's fortune. I think she can afford for one little woman to make her voyage across the Atlantic on a well furnished, well sterilized, and well guarded ship." I mumbled lowly in a small protest, but offered no further advancements.

Now she ran fiercely towards me, her face holding determination as not to trip and hurt her poor self again. But it worked to no prevail. In less then enough time she was tumbling forward. As she ran, her left foot caught ever so graciously onto the front of her petty coat, causing her right foot hit the back of her heal, giving the foot no chance to save her. Both of her arms flew protectively out in front of her, trying so desperately to catch her fall. The new, beautiful book went hurtling into the air, landing in a pile of gravel skidding just a bit before its stop.

She shrieked again, but not in excitement. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth was stretched far open. But I was quick and only a few steps away. I grabbed the back of her petty coat with one hand, and her bodice with the other, stopping her a moment before her face would collide with the ground she became oh so familiar with over her seventeen years of living.

I chuckled momentarily as I grabbed her arm, and helped her up. I brushed the bottom of her skirts off for her, as she got her upper half. I looked up from my kneeling place, seeing her face puff and turn a magnificent ruby red.

"Oh, please forgive my clumsiness, dear brother (a/n: not her actual brother. That's what the called boys in the nineteenth and early twentieth century if they were close), I was just in a rush to see you, for I've missed you all this time. I mean, tell me, how could I go without my dearest friend for three whole months! Oh, it was agony dear Jasper, pure agony." she blubbered still not taking the time to look to me.  
As I stood up I took in her whole appearance. Bella was never very much one of the girls. Instead of raving over the latest dress in fashion, and the most proper bow, she would read, or play stick ball with me and the boys. That is what I adored most about her. But now she stood at least two inches taller, a lovely pink silk gown on, and her hair up in rollers with a day hat, and a pink satin ribbon securing the hats place on her head, tied ever so tightly under her chin. She had darker pink high heels that I could see while I was kneeling laced almost to the middle of her calf.

She used to wear dirty old house dressed to play her sports, and old dirty brown common-worker shoes. To have dirt under her finger nails, or a scuff on her high-heels never once put a frown on her small childish face.

But ah, that also was the difference. Her once round face was now a delicate heart shape; her once childish wide eyes were more soothing and settled with wisdom. Her dull hair before was a stunning chocolate brown , and her figure had filled out perfectly, adding gentle but more definite sloops to her hips –readying itself for childbearing I presumed-, and her waist thinned itself out from it's earlier chubbiness. Her breast swelled to noticeable size, and her shoulders had broadened with pride.

I couldn't stop my eyes from skimming more then once before she could notice I was finished. But as she looked up, I directed my attention to her eyes. Oh, how their brown grew a shade lighter, growing deeper and more soulful. I felt my breath hitch.

"Well, Jasper dear boy, give me a hug!" she opened her arms, a wide grin spreading across her features. That's when I noticed that her lips also filled out more, and her face became more slender. She stunned me.

I quickly wrapped my arms under hers, pressing my face into the crooked of her neck, burying my face into the loose curls that fell from their rollers. "Oh, you look stunning, my dear Isabella."

"And I must inquire it also for you. My dear boy, you have chance such a significant amount!" Her arms wrapped tighter around my neck, pulling me down further.

I chuckled and drew my head back, but still not loosening my hold around her waist, "And how so have I changed?" I grinned down at her.

"My boy! You have grown at least a foot taller then me. You're shoulders are more pronounced and proud, your neck has certainly thickened out, and you're waist has grown! My boy!" she repeated, "You are no longer a boy! You are now a man," she beamed up at me.

"Oh, but before I was nothing more the, a small stick with taffy at the end to emphasize my head?" I questioned jokingly.

She rolled her forehead across my chest, muffling her laugh. "Well, you also have changed," I pointed out.

"And how would that be?" but it seemed she already had an ounce of an idea as she had a knowing expression.

"Well, Isabella, you have too grown, but only by a couple of inches. You're fashion sense has improved, and your figure has perfectly filled itself out. You're face has balanced itself out, and you're eyes have become deeper," I said without an ounce of shame, beings as since we could speak, we've only let truth be uttered to one another.

But I saw her face twist a bit with pain, but she quickly rushed (yes, rushed) it off, "So Jasper, you're telling me I was nothing but a dog-faced bodiless tomboy?"

"N-no," I suddenly stuttered, and I tried desperately to explain, "I- I didn't mean it in anyway li-"

"Shush," she smiled putting her pointer finger to my lips. "I was only playing a cruel joke," she chuckled softly.

"Oh thank you, Miss. Isabella," I said in mock pain. I walked to the book she had clumsily dropped and inspected it before extending my arm out to her to hand it back.

"Oh no, dearest friend," she put her hands up, "that is for you. It is a gift from Italy. I know how much you love to read, and the foreign motherland's." she smiled shyly.

"Well, sweetheart, I must thank you," I bent at the waist, mock bowing to make light of the situation.

I saw her face grow red for an instant before turning on her heels, and saying, "Well, we must be hurrying, I must go and great Mama and Papa." after I lingered behind for a quick second, she turned sharply and added in more of a command, "Well, are you coming?" Europe didn't seem to only alter her appearance, but also her personality.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

After she greeted her parents, and I was invited to stay for supper, I watched her every move. I watched her as she commanded the house servants around without remorse, and talked to her parents with more authority then before. I watched as she stuck her chin in the air, and paid little to no attention to her once close friend, Mrs. Abdrey, the house servant that she used to giggle and talk so vigorously with through out her times left in their home.

I watched her, noting how she had altered so very much. How she seemed so much more selfish, and self-centered, I noticed and I felt my heart break little by little. I always viewed her as nothing more then a sister, but it affected more so then a brother would be. I was effected as a close friend; a husband; a lover, when he sees the love of his life die away. When I said good-bye before leaving for home, I didn't bother making it elaborate by hugging her and telling her how I'd miss her while we were apart like I had always done. After I said good-bye, I walked down the gravel walk way to the gate, thinking too much of how Bella, my closest friend, had betrayed and abandoned herself.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I didn't go over the next day, or the day after that. I told myself it was because I was too busy, but I knew subconsciously that it was because I missed who she was, and I wasn't warming up to the idea of getting to know the new her.

I didn't make any advancement to see her, I didn't even ask about her around our small Texan town when I was out at the market or boutique, but she was the one to make the advancement at restoring our friendship that was on hold for three months, and longer, due to her sudden change.

It had been a week or so when I was sitting in the drawing room, reading the leather bound book Bella gave me about Italy's history. She knew me all to well and my fascination with historical events. The door man of the apartments my family and I were residing in called on me, telling the maidservant that I had a visitor.

Her Irish accent laid on thick as she rushed up, her eyes wide with worry, "Mrs. McMenamin, what it is? Tell me. Tell me now." I took a hold of her shoulders and shook her as she couldn't get one coherent sentence out, just saying 'visitor' repetitively. As I got frustrated I just brushed past her and headed for the door. And what I saw broke my heart more then Bella's altered personality ever could.

It was pouring rain this exact night, leaving out town in hopes to end the pending drought. Bella was standing at the front of the door, right off of the curb, her shoulders shaking. She was dressed in her usual attire that I always remembered and loved. Her dingy tan house dress, with a darker brown apron tied around her waist. Her hair was pulled back with an old cloth bow, and even through the dark rain I could make out her tears and red swollen face.

I rushed out to her, putting my arm around her shoulder quickly leading her inside. She stumbled momentarily on the door jam as I felt her body heave and convulse. "Bella, Bella, sweetheart, what is it?" I asked half frantic, turning towards her, gripping her shoulders.

She didn't answer for a moment, staring at me as her face crumbled. "Bella, darling, you have to say something, anything." I said on the verge of becoming completely frantic.

"I-I- you…" she started to sob, and I felt my heart fall as I felt her pain, without even having a reason.

"My love-" I stopped myself before I could say anymore, "My dear, you have to talk in complete sentences. Please, just tell me what is the matter."

"I-I thought" she had to catch her breath, and I could tell by the determination on her face, along with the pain, that she was going to bear her complete soul to me. "I thought that if I changed over in Europe, if I became different you would fall in love with me like I had fallen in love with you too many years back," she cried out, letting her face fall into her hands.

"And what makes you think a man would not fall in love with a woman such as your _true_ self?" I asked, to frightened to say what was taking control of my mind.

"Because every girl I have seen you chase after since we were thirteen was a girl of great beauty and authority. One who was completely confident in herself and the orders she barked. The kind that shops at French boutiques and stores I will never be able to afford. That is the woman you love." she was becoming hysterical.

I collected her in a hug and held her close to my chest, "Oh, my dearest Isabella. You are sadly mistaken. I have fallen in love with the woman you have presented yourself as tonight." I said in a whisper, my heart pounding and my mind racing.

She pushed back, "Oh Jasper Whitlock you are only saying that so I will stop sobbing into your chest; ruining your shirt."

This is when I pulled her back at arm's length and looked directly into her eyes, "My lady, I would not lie to mend your heart. I may not have been conscience of it this whole time, but I'm certain I've been in love with you since the womb. I will one day make you my bride, my wife, my lover and my child's mother." I felt my confidence rising.

"You do mean that, don't you Jasper," she didn't say in a question.

"I do, love, I do." I pulled her face to mine, and kissed her hard. I wasn't going to let her go this time, and I vowed on it. I would be damned if I let her become that monster again, or if I'd let _any_ type of monster take her.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I kneeled at Isabella's grave, feeling the old grief come on once again. She died of a heart decease before we could conceive any children, only two years after we wed on her 18th birthday, the same year that I was forever changed; forced to live in a paused state, never again to be reunited with the woman I first fell in love with.

Alice put her hand on my shoulder, understanding of my still alive love for Isabella. "I think it's time to go," she worded my thoughts as it started to bear too much influence on my emotions.

As we walked away, she mentioned something that caught my attention, "So, I had a vision of a new girl joining our clan." she beamed.

"Oh?" I pushed, only vaguely interested. "When?"

"Well," she looked confused, "We're meeting her today, in school, but she won't actually be joining us for a few years," I caught onto her implication.

"Ah, human," I smirked. "Who's going to be changing her?"

"Edward," she said, biting at her nail, though futile, but I learned it was just a habit from when she was human, "The whole love thing finally happens with him," she tried to make light of the situation, but I could detect the excitement in her voice, along with it rolling off of her since we started the conversation.

"So, what's her name?" I asked, looking down at my shoes.

"Isabella, well Bella. Bella Swan," she smiled. She never knew the name of my first wife, and she never tried to pry, knowing how it pained me.

I felt my breath hitch as my stomach suddenly became a hole. Was time always this deceiving?

**To be honest, I wanted to do Emmett, because he's always been my favorite, but I noticed; during Emmett's human life, they didn't were petty coats….**

**But anyway, enjoy and review. And I know, there will be some errors, but as of the moment, I don't have time to reread, the cause: having to go out with my sister's, and I want to get this up as soon as possible.**

**Thank you so much!!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Alright, this is how it goes. Yeah, Bella's not a vampire, and all the rest are, like in Twilight, but it's going to have somewhat of a different story line. There will be more having to do with Jasper interacting with Bella. Also, I was only planning on making a one shot, but actually a lot of people asked me to continue, so what the heck, why not?**

I stood at the end of the isle, my heart ready to jump right out of my chest. I left my arms at my sides, opening and closing my hands repetitively, as they became clammy, feeling the perspiration on my forehead collect. I wouldn't say this was cold feet, because I knew that the only thing I wanted out of this life as of the moment was to wed my dearest friend, and my perfect lover. But what if I could not hold up to the standards? What if she decided she could have had better, and with me, I was holding her back from her achievements? What if she decided she did not love me, and leave me broken hearted and shattered?

I decided if she did decide herself too good, I would only let her run, though still morn for her absents. I found myself falling deeper and deeper into love for this girl; woman as the days past. That faithful night that I proclaimed my love for her, I also decided to ask for her hand in marriage. She accepted quickly, and most excitedly, and we set the date only a month to the day after; on my dear Isabella's birthday.

She told me it was the best birthday present a woman could ever receive; me. We spent every waking moment in each other's presences. I was not able to leave her alone; she invaded my mind while I was conscious and my dreams while I was not. She was unforgettable. Her laugh was melodic, her eyes saw into the depth of any soul, and her body, though not so graceful, seemed to still float on air.

I devoted my complete self to her, feeling overwhelming pride as we would walk down the streets as I courted her. She would loop her arm through mine, leaving me to do nothing but hold my head up high with a smug smile. She was beautiful and addictive. She was like nothing else I could ever tell you I've encountered.

Out at public affairs she was proper, and quiet like an idolized wife, but in the confines of our own company she was bright and humorous. She was witty, and some what sarcastic; every characteristic was what made her beautifully unique to me, causing my heart to swell, and my smile to widen. She walked with confidence, and pride, but with kindness and gentleness. She was something that was new and different, but yet so familiar and so comfortable.

As my mind became entranced with her perfection, a small smug smile over came my face, right before the wedding march started to play over the organ. I saw her turn down the isle, one high heeled foot stepping on the red rug that was rolled out for her to walk down. Her arm was laced through her father's; James (**haha**) Swan's arm. His face was mixed with somewhat pride, and disgust at the same time.

Her father never very much enjoyed me for my rebellious streak while away for boarding school. Also because he believed his precious Isabella could find someone of greater fortune, and better name, but he couldn't deny the fact that we were both shamelessly in love with one another. He tried to persuade me to call off the wedding for a large sum of money, but as cliché and idiotic as it is, only an insane man in love could deny and say, "Your daughter's heart is worth more to me then all the stars in the sky, and any amount of grains of sand on all of the beaches in the world."

No one every really considered me very much of a sane man.

Her face was covered with a thick lace veil that was connected to a white laurel. There were crème pearl flowers stretching across her forehead and placed in various parts on the lace. I saw her body shake slightly as she turned to the isle. Was she regretting it? Her dress was a crème, with lace sleeves that fell off of her shoulders leaving her shoulders and most of her arms bare. The dress cut to a deep V above her bust, revealing her cleavage. A thick silk yellow ribbon tied right under her breasts, and her skirts hung limply around her legs, showing her figure off, making me even more proud. A gorgeous elaborate pearl necklace hung around her neck, and a large topaz stone hung from the end, matching the deep yellow ribbon. The train of her dress followed far behind her, along with the veil that reached past her feet. She had long gloves that made it just past her elbows that were the same magnificent color as her dress.

I felt my breath catch in my throat. Never have I ever seen a beauty so. It was difficult to describe, as a beauty so immaculate was beyond any amount of words in any of the many languages of our world. She walked timidly, her body shaking yet again, and the same question ran through my head the second time; _Was she regretting this?_ I pushed the thought out of my head as she neared even more. Her hands twitched, making the yellow lilies in her hands to twitch along, making even more so noticeable. I passed my weight between feet as I became nervous pondering the thoughts that could be going through my angel's mind.

I watched the backs of everyone else's heads as they faced her. I couldn't look at her any longer, though I wished to dearly. I couldn't watch her fidgeting body and think any good thoughts for her. My heart ran right out of my chest as it felt like my stomach was about to turn. My forehead produced more sweat as my hands began to shake worse then ever before.

What would I do when the loveliest bride would run from me? It would be an embarrassment, but my mind wasn't half on that as I readied my own reaction. I knew what I would do; I would cry before all that I and my dear Bella loved. And then a sudden thought came to me; _The girl came crying to you in the night, what makes you think she will run away now?_ I felt my confidence rise. _She wants you, and no one else. Think like you should be; that you're the luckiest bastard in the world._ I felt my shoulders broaden out from their once before slumped position. I took a deep breath to calm myself, and folded my hands in prideful justice before me.

I smiled as she approached closer, all negative thoughts scurrying from my mind. My smile was gentle and inviting. I was about to marry a woman and be with her for the rest of my life; unlike most of my old friends that were already married, I did not feel one bit of worry, regret, or fear. I only felt an overwhelming warmness swell throughout my stomach, stretching throughout my whole body because I knew with every part of my being that this is where I wanted to be; where I knew I was supposed to be until we were mortally separated forever.

James let go of her arm, giving me one last look filled with venom before turning to her. He cupped her face gently and looked through her veil with a look of pride and morn. He leaned close lifting her veil that conserved her face just enough to place a soft kiss on her cheek. She turned to me, holding her bouquet close to her chest, still shaking slightly. I gave her a soft look of promise, before we both turned to the priest, readying ourselves for a life commitment.

We stood there faithfully as he talked slowly, reading from the bible that was splayed on a small wooden alter in front of him. His hands were outstretched, facing the sky as he addressed us, along with the Lord. I stared towards my bride through the corner of my eye each second that I waited for our words that would bind us together until death would rip us apart.

We recited our vows and said the traditional "I Dos" while my heart beat picked up pace. Finally when it came time, I turned hesitantly towards her, the old doubts entering my mind yet again about her thoughts. I timidly took hold of the corners of her veil, peering into her hidden face, frightened of what I might find behind it. I pulled it up slowly, to reveal a worried face with saddened eyes, and instantly I thought my worries became reality instead of just a play of the mind.

I leaned close to her ear, whispering gently, "You have proven my worries right, my lady, and if you would like to run, just hurry before I shall kiss you, binding our lives together," I leaned back, a look of pain crossing my features.

"Oh Jasper, I knew it," she whispered, looking down, her eyes began to shine with threatening tears.

"What would you mean, my dear?" I asked with confusion coloring my tone.

"I knew you would soon realize you're love for me was only false, and you would regret ever asking me to be your wife," she looked up at me half frantic.

And suddenly her fidgeting and shaking became somewhat clear to me as I chuckled softly, "Oh my love, you are sorely mistaken," the memory of the night that I first claimed undying love for her flashed in my mind, "I was doubting your commitment to me, nothing of the same for me. For I know Isabella Swan," I paused for a short second and quickly added in, "Isabella Whitlock, that you are the woman I will spend the rest of my living life with, along with the time that I am deceased and but a soul. I will always be forever bound to you," I cupped her cheek softly, my face only revealing pure adoration for her.

"The-then why were you fidgeting so?" she looked down, pushing her face more into my hand.

"Only because I believed you were contemplating running," I chuckled at the absurd thought.

Suddenly I heard the priest's expectant forced cough. I glanced up at him quickly with a sorrowful expression. But as I looked back down at the new Mrs. Whitlock, my expression softened. I leaned closely, as she met me half way. I kissed her tenderly, and lingered longer then expected. This was exactly where I wanted to be.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

**(this is where it starts to get a bit graphic, but not a lot, it just seems like an important part to me.)**

It was our honeymoon night, the night that I was expected to steal away Isabella's maidenhead.

I hovered above her as I looked into her face. Lust combined with fear colored her features, and I instantly became hesitant. "Sweet, is this what you really wish to do?"

"It is, my love, it is just more frightening then anything, for I know of the stories women tell of the first time. I wish to give my whole self to you, heart body and soul. I have given you two out of the three, and it is time to deliver the last."

"I will not expect it from you if you do not wish to present it," I warned.

"I am though, dear Jasper, I am," she closed her eyes softly. She laced her arms around my naked torso, placing her hands on my shoulder blades. She pulled me in close towards her, allowing our bare chests to touch. Each hand of mine on either side of her held me above her, as I hesitantly brushed her hair from her face.

I leaned down as her invitation pushed me forward, kissing the hollow under her ear. I kissed down her jaw to the hollow beneath her neck. I wanted to make this especial for her. I didn't want to just have sex like I did with any other woman before her; for the first time I wanted to make love.

I caressed her stomach and her hips softly, as my lips found hers. I pulled gently at her bottom lip, going slow as not to make her feel rushed. I wanted it to be conceived as amorous. I wanted her to know exactly how I felt. She responded by snaking her left leg around my waist, her body naturally knowing what direction to take. She lifted her other knee allowing me better access. I let her lips escape as I breathed out hard. I gave her a questioning look. She closed her eyes once again, and gave me a subtle nod. She breathed slowly, her lips gently parted.

I positioned myself at her entrance, and pushed in suddenly. I heard her sudden intake of air as she squeezed her eyes shut. Her nails ripped through my skin on my back, but I paid to attention to it, as I didn't want to cause her much more pain then what was necessary.

I kept at a slow pace not wanting to go any faster, detecting her uncomfortable position. "I will stop if you need me to," I said lowly, leaning my head on her shoulder.

"No," I heard her breath, pulling me closer, as encouragement.

I watched her face, and as I saw it loose the expression of pain, and gain a mask of desire and lust I started to move at a faster timing. Her deep breathing went from an uncomfortable stutter, switching to a heavy pleasurable sound. The noises that she emitted only pushed me to try and please her more. Her hips started to rock in time with mine, meeting my thrusts.

After we were finished I rolled over onto my back, my breathing coming in hard as my whole body was covering in a sheen of sweat. I looked over to her, her arms spread out and her hair a tangled mess; a dark hallow. I softly chuckled and smoothed the hair that was sticking to her forehead do to sweat, away. She looked over to me, a soft smile to match my own.

"My dear boy," she repeated the name she used for me through out our lives together, "you have made me a _very_ happy woman," she laughed as she played with a lock of my own hair.

"And you have made me a very happy husband," I chuckled, leaning in kissing her softly on the cheek.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I sat in second period, English 4, hardly paying attention, knowing I've learned it all before. I sat with my chin in my hand, only thinking over what Alice had told me. I didn't let anything to intimate or private to cross my mind as I knew somehow someway Edward would catch onto my familiar thoughts, and get just a glimpse of my life with Isabella.

I let random enjoyable memories of childhood with her play behind my eyelids as I feigned sleep. Edward wouldn't know who it was, wouldn't even try to take a guess, assuming that it was nothing of importance. Which you could say it wasn't beings as it was almost two centuries ago, though I couldn't help but care about it.

Because of being a vampire, memories faltered and faded, but these were the ones I intentionally tried my best to hold onto; the ones with Isabella. Though they weren't so vivid, and they seemed to be missing a significant amount to them, I still enjoyed every minute of them. But the parts that seemed to have slipped my mind, I made parts up, parts that I knew would please me, though still disappointed me in a way, knowing that I would never get the forgotten parts back.

I did have a journal that I kept after my newborn years. I kept all the valuable memories in it from my human life; times with my mother, times with my grandparents, and times with Isabella. I decided to take up the writing after my maker told me that memories fade; told me it was the best thing, that it would only pain me if I kept those memories when I mentioned that I didn't want to loose anything that I obtained from my former life.

The bell rand suddenly while I was still reviling in the past. My eyes shot open as I heard everyone else gathering their things. I sighed and along with the rest of them, I picked my books up. I made my way to the door, hanging back from everyone else, trying not to get to close knowing that my self control wasn't the best, leaving me in fear of getting too good of a smell of their skin; their sent; their hair; their _blood_. I shuttered as I wondered what Isabella would think of what I had become after her death.

I turned into the rainy abyss that was Forks, not taking my eyes off of my shoes. I walked quickly, but still not too quick to get noticed. I tried to hold my breath, to fend off any unwanted, but desirable smells. But as it became a bit uncomfortable, I took a small inhale. But that's when I smelt it.

It was strangely familiar, though I knew I never had a whiff of it during my vampire years. I looked up suddenly, unnaturally curious. And I saw her. She resembled my dear Isabella remarkably, but there were still obvious differences.

The same wide eyes and heart shaped face; the same clumsy walk and the same lanky yet beautiful figure. But yet she was so different in so many ways, that I couldn't even point them out.

Not until later would I find out that she was indeed connected to my love in one specific way.

**I know, it wasn't the best, but I do hope you all enjoyed it. Please review and give me your comments. I would greatly appreciate it. Thank you!!**

**Oh, and someone said something about "reincarnation". No. I already did a story about Bella being a reincarnation of someone else (I won't give it away in case you decide to read it, Playing With Food). I won't give away how she is connected, but she is NOT a reincarnation. Alright, thank you!! haha.**


	3. Chapter 3

**As you guessed, I'm going to have flashbacks in a lot of these chapters. So, I hope you enjoy. Also, some of the stuff you have and WILL read will be sickly sweet. But I've read plenty of novels that were written in the nineteenth century. It's just how they do, and I'm trying to create the image of Jasper's mindset during that era. **

I brushed my hand over the swell of her belly, as she was pregnant. We hadn't expected it to happen so quickly into the first year of our marriage together, but happiness overcame us as the news became pronounced with the growing of her abdomen, only four months after our honeymoon night. Isabella was unfortunate enough though to be granted with morning sickness, light headedness, weariness, and aching of the limbs. But as she told me, it was no cursing as long as it promised the welcoming of our fresh babe complete with healthiness and common humor. (She said she would never be able to take to a child very much if he was nothing but slow talk. Though she added in quickly, she would love him none the less, as long as it was my child she was carrying.) (**a/n: they're not positive it's a boy, it's just that in those times, they called mostly everything a him.**)

Yes, making love had become a casual daily thing for us, as any newly wedded; completely in love couple such as ourselves would say. But we could not deny the fact that the conceiving had to have happened on our first night. We wished so dearly that that was how it had happened, convincing ourselves that it was an act of God, blessing and glorifying our love. We believed that such luck and fortune like this was granted to us only because we had treated life with the utmost respect, that now he was only trying to give back to us in time; giving us the proud news that Isabella was bearing a child.

It was not common to hear of newly wedded couples to be carrying a babe so early on; it was almost hard to ever believe. But I believed that we just deserved it. It was ours, and we were his. For so many years of our lives, having to strive and fight, we were handed something that would make our family finally complete. And I swore I would not be like my father; I would not leave my child a bastard, and my wife a divorcee, never, as long as I loved them, and I knew I would till the end of my days.

I rested my ear lightly on the small swell of her stomach, and closed my eyes. I felt Bella's hand come up to my head and pull her fingers threw my hair repetitively, stopping every few seconds to pat where the soft spot once was. I listened to the light sounds that reminded me of putting your ear next to a seashell, hearing every type of sound that you're wild imagination could think of. I felt the… my… our child move suddenly but subtly, kicking his feet up to make a wave. I smiled softly as both of my hands spread out next to my face on her belly protectively. I sighed contently, imagining what they would turn out like. Would they have dark beautiful hair like my dear wife, with even darker eyes? Or would they have blonde, almost honey colored hair like their father, with oceanic blue eyes? The imagined results could be endless.

"That was the child's bottom," Bella chuckled softly, running her hand threw my hair yet again after she stopped to pat the top of my head. I felt my eyes open slowly, as I chanced a look up at her, to see if she was watching. Her eyes were soft and tired. Her smile was gentle and inviting. I lifted my head up from her growing womb, placing each of my hands on either side of her. I moved my way up, crawling on hands and knees, to place a soft kiss upon her lips. Never was she more beautiful then she was now.

I thought I had seen heaven on our wedding day, but that was nothing compared to something quite like this. To see your lover carrying your own babe was a sight that could top no other. To see her pet and protect the swell of her own belly, to see her face become plump and flushed, to see her walking slowly and gradually turn into a wobble, almost like a penguin (which was humorous, along with delightful), was something that could do nothing else but enhance an already proud man to be yet a little more smug.

Her skin seemed to glow daily now, and her breath seemed to turn even sweeter with the ripening of the child. She was nothing shy of gorgeous with her legs and arms along with her face growing plump, and her stomach stretching out far before her, while her breast swelled with readying milk. She astonished me each passing day, as she only seemed to grow more in hers and our child's beauty. Yes, I talk much of my own sweetheart's beauty quite often, but ah, put yourself in my place, with an angel such as this, and see what you have to say.

She hummed lightly as I set her lips free, "You should not be doing that dear husband," she closed her eyes and licked her lips before pressing them into a tight line.

I was just a bit amused, "Oh and why not?" I smirked before leaning forwards again and pressed my lips to hers even harder. (**I refuse to say passionately. It just bothers me for some reason.**) I parted her lips gentle with my tongue, before flicking it in for a quick second.

I heard her breath shutter before she stuttered, "Be-because a pregnant woman i-is at her…" she paused for a moment catching her breath, "_sexual_ peak, especially when she is rounding her sixth month, which by the way dear boy, I am," she let her eyes slid open. As she took in the amused expression of my face, she seemed to become cross. "And what may I inquire is so humorous about my situation?"

"You are just too much for me when you talk like that. You are pregnant with a child, but still you talk as if you adorn virgin ears," I chuckled as I watched her face become flushed. "My dear," I slowly looked from her face to the swell of her stomach, and up again, taking everything in along the way, "I am afraid those years must be over," I laughed lightly, burying my head in the space between her breasts. (**not in the dirty way.**)

She gasped suddenly, taking my action in as a sexual drive. She quickly planted her hands to the sides of my head pulling my face free, "Oh dear boy," she scorned, "you _mustn't _do a thing to get me excited it such a way!" Her eyes were ablaze.

I chortled, closing my eyes again; I laid my head on her chest, keeping my hands wrapped protectively around the child. Around her child. Around my child. Around our child.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

We thought it would be a boy, due to how her stomach stood so high, almost as broad as a shelf. We settled on the name Lawrence. Lawrence Benjamin Jonathan Whitlock. I whispered it to him each night as I soothed his restless body, rubbing and massaging the growing lump. I would sing some old children's tales. Bella told me of how much she enjoyed my voice. Told of how my presence could sooth anyone, or anything. Told me that my mood could be projected, and that's what I tried as I felt the young boy kick some more, causing Bella to wince in the slightest.

"That was my rib, dear boy," she had grown accustom to calling both of us by the old nickname, as she looked down warningly. She rubbed right under the growth, letting her eyes that puckered from the impact, slowly reform shape.

I heard a sudden rapping at our cottage's door (yes, they have a cottage, buahaha). Suddenly alert, I stood as fast as I could, my heart pounding as I expected something of bad news. I swallowed the bile that worked its way up. Yes, you might conclude an over reaction, but for the past month or so, my mother had been expected to pass away, bedridden, as liver decease attacked her restlessly. Death loomed closely, I know, for every time I walked a foot in her room, I felt the darkness become overwhelming; felt the spirits' disturbances.

"Stay here, love," I rubbed her womb one last time. I rushed down the old wooden steps, taking two at a time. My hand sliding down the polished rail so fast I could feel it begin to splinter. Air rushed past my lips as I tried to steady my breath. I opened the door to see a solemn faced Ms. McMenamin. I gasped suddenly, my hand almost flying to my mouth as I expected the worse.

"Please, please come in," I led her in with my arm wrapped around her shoulder. I offered to take her green satin cloak.

"No, no," her Irish accent soft, waving me off. She slid the hood from her head, folding her hands in front of her.

"Well, what news do you have for me?" I took a deep breath trying to straighten myself out, and waited for her response, but as it was delayed I took a step closer. "You must answer me, Ms., you must." as I became impatient I took hold of her shoulders, and shook her once to allow her to look up at me.

"Yo-your mother wanted me to come and give you the news. She has been recovering, though the physicians do not know how long this strike of good health will last," the fear apparent in her eyes as my grip became tighter.

"And you would worry me half to death just to tell me-" I was suddenly cut short as I heart a great tumble come from the steps, along with a sickening crack. I looked over slowly, too horrified to take in what I knew was there.

Bella was now trying to sit up to lean against the wall, as she gripped her belly. "Ohhhh," she crowed, her eyes pinched and her mouth a disgusted O.

I rushed over to her as fast as I could. I took her arm, and looked quickly to Mrs. McMenamin, "Well what are you waiting for you dunce! Help me!" I heard my own voice become a roar; a sickly sound that reminded me of only a sound a demon could make.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was a girl we found out. She had dirty blond hair, the perfect mix between mine and Isabella's hair; brilliant blue eyes with a dark green ring around the iris. The palest, most milk white skin, the smallest feet and hands; a sign that she was truly meant for royalty; never to lift a finger, never to move a foot.

After Isabella took the tumble down the steps, I ordered for the housemaid and Mrs. McMenamin to run as fast as they could to get the nearest physician; I took Bella in my arms and tried to make it anywhere that would help, but her blood was everywhere; our child's blood was everywhere. I shamelessly sobbed hugging her to my chest out front of the small cottage we considered our _families _palace. I screamed and cried for help from anyone; from everyone.

They weren't fast enough; there was no saving the baby girl; though I knew in the back of my mind, that I did not reveal to myself till years later, while drinking a child dry, that our child had no chance at life; not after that fall. It was too late to cut her out, it would endanger Isabella's life, as she was only left with a few scratches and bruises with one broken rib that they were easily able to set back in place.

We gave her the name Vanessa Emily Theresa Whitlock. Bella pushed her out after we were told that there was still a chance at saving her. She would be a month and a half early, but we would take that chance. It didn't take very long, beings as the child was already turning head first into the cervix, as Bella's body rejected the already dead baby. But we still had hopes, though we knew there was no chance.

As the doctor cut the umbilical cord, he rushed her over to a nurse to slap her bottom. No nose was emitted. Bella didn't need to hear it, she already knew. I heard her breathless delusional sobs. I felt my jaw go slack as I stared, my eyes already becoming moist. The doctor poised as sympathetic, though I knew he went through this day after day. He washed her off gently, and asked if we would like to hold her before an autopsy was preformed, and then taken off to be buried.

Bella accepted. Most people would find it too heart breaking or disturbing, but it was a part of us, joined into one. The only thing- person we could love more then one another. The physician placed Vanessa in Bella's arms, and instantly maternal instinct took over. She instantly cradled her, making sure the poor dear's head was propped in the crock of her arm. She brushed her already thick golden hair back from her forehead as I could see her plead with herself not to cry.

She offered the fetus to me, but I wasn't able to bare it. I just watched her rock her back and forth minute upon minute; when the physician informed us that he would have to take our dear daughter away, Bella let out a long mournful sigh. As she sat up and got ready to hand Vanessa over, her tiny chest suddenly convulsed, as her body rejected any liquid out of her system. Anything that Bella had given her; her food, her life, her love. It was all rejected.

And suddenly, I was angry with God for taking our daughter away. I was angry with Isabella for even attempting to make it down the steps on her own. I was angry with the physician, I was just angry at the world. I muffled a scream as the doctor grabbed our baby from Bella's arms, handing it with less care then ever thought possible.

"Be careful!" I heard myself cry reaching an arm out.

From that day on, I never saw the same fire in Isabella's eyes. Never the same spark, the same wit, the same sarcasm. Not until the day she last whispered her forever living love for me before God also took her. And my mother lived long enough to know of my daughter. But she did not live long enough for Vanessa's funeral that was held three days after.

So I felt like much was stripped from me. My daughter. My mother. My lover. The three that were only ever made to love me. Forever their names are stained on my lips; Isabella Katherine Patricia Swan. Vanessa Emily Theresa Whitlock. Francis Jessica Whitlock. (I'm sorry, I don't know Jasper's mother's actual name. Oh, and if you haven't noticed, he's so close to her because his father left while Jasper was at a very young age.)

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

I told them I was going out to clear my head, and maybe feed. They believed me, Alice asked me if I wished for her to join me, but I only declined as I turned away. I felt the pain roll off of her as I expected, though it still stung in a way. She knew that I wasn't quite right today. I didn't want to hurt the woman that excepted me for my many flaws, the one that loved me with nothing but true adoration. But I felt myself repelling all of whom that loved me for the simple fact that I wasn't able to get this new Isabella Swan out of my thoughts.

Earlier in the day Edward had taken off, claiming that her blood was too much for him to handle. In the car ride to the house, I felt his disgust and humiliation; feelings that mirrored the ones I felt each day, trapped in the confines of each class room with humans, ones of which that I only used to ever view as supper. For a brief moment, that I would not like to admit, I felt a bit smug, but yet offended.

The great Edward Masen who for so many years turned off of human blood, finally found the sweet scent of blood that called to his inner animal; his inner beast; his inner _demon_. The thing that for so long it felt now, that I had been trying to tame and put under heavy enough chains. I would not be lying if I did not say it didn't delight me in the bit, though after his departure left a heavy cloud of disappointment on mine and his part as well.

Instead of going to a forest where the hunt was most easy, I sat in the branches of the tree that hung right out front of the newly discovered Isabella Swan's bedroom window. Maybe Alice had seen it already; discovered my lowly lie, maybe she had not, only looking for the future to where I would lower myself yet again to attacking an innocent bystander. But I knew that if she did see me now, stalking the window of a new girl, that she would find some reason in her to understand, knowing I would make no advancements to harm her. Even if she was not able to fully wrap her mind around it.

I watched through her dark window; angry at her; angry at myself. What power did this girl hold over me? I knew she was not my once lost love, for I watch Isabella slowly die, I stood at her grave, I watched her casket be lowered into the six foot ditch that she would reside in until the end of time; a lonely after life to live, most likely still guessing I would soon follow, and join her. Or perhaps she had already seen me; watched over me, knowing that I had already died, yet though I still lived.

I crept my way over the branch, closing the distance between me and the window. I gripped my hands around the windowsill, still keeping my footing on the tree. I heard her heavy breathing, marking sleep had loomed. What time of the night had it been? I watched her gently turn to face me, causing me to startle only a bit before I continued to listen intently to her intakes of air.

The moon that hardly ever graced Forks' skies made an unexpected appearance, lighting this unfamiliar girl's face. She was nothing out of the ordinary; same as any human girl. A small nose, wide forehead, spaced eyes, a pointed chin, and an uncommon widows peek. But if she was so much close to the ordinary, then why did she resemble _my_ Isabella so? If I were to see her today, would I think the same?

No, couldn't be. My Isabella was nothing of the ordinary. She was witty and sarcastic. Calm and beautiful. Nothing like this girl presented before me now; but yet I asked the same question; _what power does this girl hold over me? _I marked all the different features, trying to prove my thoughts wrong.

Isabella _Whitlock_ did not have a widow's peek, her forehead was perfect proportion for the rest of her face, her upper lip was perfect size for her bottom, and her body was never so lanky. _But what if you saw her today, would she still be so beautiful?_ My mind betrayed me and asked suck a question to prove my sudden doubts that I had been denying to be real.

Had love truly blinded me? No, of course not; Isabella was a blessing to the eyes. Different from human beauty, along with vampire's. I still kept a photo that I had taken with her the year that she died. It was when camera's first became public, having to stand in one particular position for half of an hour at a time. I still gazed at it when alone, reveling in her distanced unique beauty. It was nothing of a joke of lover's eye.

I peered closer into the window as I heard her mumble softly. What in dear God's name could she be saying? It was even too low and too indistinct for my ears to make out. I watched her fuss again, rolling over, pushing the cover that contained her frail human body off with her feet. The moon light illuminated her skin, turning her usual pale skin to a magnificent glowing blue. But I didn't find myself yearning for her like I once had done for my Isabella. I just found myself with an unhealthy obsession for the girl.

Suddenly something clear passed her lips; so subtle that no human even laying right next to those full lips would be able to hear. "Edward," her voice was breathy, filled with sleep. The voice sounded so longing for the name that it took me a moment to understand truly who she meant.

I felt something inside my chest suddenly combust, and I felt like a raving lunatic. I jumped from the tree, slamming my fists into my forehead repetitively. How could she want Edward? Why couldn't she want me? And suddenly I felt more selfish then before. I felt like such a fool. I had Alice. She was waiting at home for me, more concerned then anyone ever could be about another living… well, moving being.

I heard the name being uttered again, and I felt like it would drive me absolutely mad if I didn't get away from there fast and soon. I took off with no exact direction. I wouldn't be returning to the house yet. Not tonight. Not yet. I would be heading off to school in a few hours, there had to be something to possess my attention before then.

And before the sun would rise, marking the beginning of the day, I would find myself peering through her window yet again, more then once, raking my brain, and trying to figure out what relations this common human girl had with my dear, sweet, loving, passionate Isabella. My late wife. My late love. My deceased.

**I didn't feel like I liked this chapter so much. Well, leave your opinions, and please do tell. But don't worry. It's going to get better. I promise. And I hope this kind of explains to you why my reason for his emotions are.**


	4. PLEASE READ

My computer seriously have been broken for all this time. Haha. So I haven't been able to add anything. But I just got it back up and running, so I'm going to start writing a new chapter and see where it goes.


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